Confess
by kimbuhlay
Summary: An unusually vulnerable Damon bares his innermost thoughts at his best friend's grave, unaware that a certain brunette can hear his every word. Three-part story, picking up at 4x02 'Memorial'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back again, with another item crossed off my 'half-finished short stories from forever ago' list. I was inspired by all the lovely reviews you guys left on my last oneshot (THANK YOU!) so I decided to finish this one as soon as I got a spare moment to write. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**This obviously picks up during 4x02, but deviates from canon. My idea for this story came from one thought I had during the episode - what if Elena had overheard Damon? I know this chapter is short, but it needed to end where it does. I'll see you guys again soon with chapter two.**

**Thank you for reading! ~ Kim**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or its characters; all rights to their respective owners.**

* * *

Elena fell backwards onto the grass, watching the lanterns float into the sky. Each got smaller and smaller until they were only specks on the black canvas, glittering like the billions of stars in worlds beyond her own.

It was a perfect metaphor, really; her thin strand of mortality severed in twain and gliding away on the wind like a gossamer spider's web, detached from her human, vulnerable body. With those lanterns she released her last hopes of ever sustaining a normal life – a husband, kids and a white picket fence. Truthfully, she didn't want those things anymore; she hadn't for a long time. She'd accepted that since the days of evading Klaus before the sacrifice.

Her life with Stefan now would be relatively stable, safe. They'd live in Mystic Falls together until their lack of aging made things difficult, then they'd move on, feeding on various woodland creatures as they went. They'd hold down jobs or go to college and he'd be by her side every step of the way. Without Bonnie's gift of foresight, Elena couldn't see much farther than that.

A traitorous part of her stirred as her thoughts wandered to Damon. _Damon_, on the other hand, would give her a wild and unpredictable future. He'd show her the world that lay at their feet, travelling across every continent and seeing everything there was to see. He'd teach her everything there was to know about being a vampire, uncensored, unafraid of the dark, unbridled passion that so frightened Stefan. Perhaps, eventually, she would go to college and Damon would probably let her have her independence. He'd have complete trust in her ability to refrain from chewing on professors and fend off sleazy frat boys.

She stopped that train of thought before it got any further. She'd made her choice. It wasn't fair on anyone for her to be chasing thoughts of what could have been. She loved Stefan; she wanted to be with Stefan.

But a tiny, insistent part of her found that those words didn't feel quite right.

Craving some alone time and feeling too much lingering guilt to face Stefan at home, she wandered aimlessly into the woods.

* * *

"Floating lanterns in the sky," Damon mused aloud, taking another swig of his bourbon. "Can you believe that?"

A stray passerby would question his sanity but he sat alone on a cold stone bench, his eyes dark with unreleased emotion, mourning the loss of his best friend by the plaque bearing his name.

"Japanese lanterns as a symbol of letting go of the past." There was bitterness and pain beneath his cynicism. "Well, here's a newsflash: we're not Japanese."

Elena's ears pricked up at the sound of amber fluid splashing in a glass bottle. She had grown to associate that sound with Damon, to be specific, an emotional Damon. She fixated her hearing in that direction, taking full advantage of her newly acquired vampire skills as she moved stealthily closer.

"You know what they are? Children." Elena repressed a gasp, angered. She knew he was talking about her, and the others. Again she concentrated, trying to discern other voices, footsteps, something to let her know who was with him in the clearing.

"They think lighting candles is going to make everything okay, or saying a prayer, or pretending Elena's not going to end up just like the rest of us murderous vampires. Stupid, delusional, exasperating little children."

Elena's eyes narrowed in fury. Who was he to judge them for wanting to find something to cling onto? She was one step away from bursting into that clearing and confronting him and whomever he was talking to, be it compelled victim or god forbid, a newly-returned Katherine Pierce.

"And I know what you're going to say. 'It makes them feel better, Damon.' So what?"

Elena's anger dissipated a little at this. She heard the vulnerability in his voice, an echo of a memory that she'd only discovered she had today. This was pure, unshielded Damon, and with relief, Elena deduced he would not be baring his innermost thoughts to the first, but not last, slender brunette to break his heart.

"For how long? A minute, a day… what difference does it make?" He rose to his feet, swaying slightly, his voice rising in anger. "Because in the end, when you lose someone, every candle, every prayer isn't going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be."

It finally hit her. _Alaric_. The one-sided conversation she was observing suddenly became a whole lot more personal, and she shifted slightly away, fighting back sobs.

"And a rock, with a birthdate carved into it that I'm pretty sure is wrong."

He returned to his seat with a sigh, sinking down on it tiredly. Elena's vampirism and heightened emotions allowed her to feel his pain acutely; every loss, every burst of emotion he kept hidden from the world. He'd lived for so long and he'd lost many over the years. Damon pretended not to give a damn but truly he cared for people so much more deeply than Elena had understood before today.

Rose, his friend, an equal, an ally. Andie, comfort sex, a meal, an ear to vent to. Katherine, the woman who'd broken him. Elena, the woman he'd fixed himself for, but for whom he still hadn't been good enough.

And now Ric, Damon's best friend, the man who he'd hated and who'd hated him. The man who'd taught Damon the power of forgiveness, camaraderie and a mutual love of the finest scotch. The man who'd empathised, felt the betrayal of a harsh and selfish woman feigning her death for her own gain, endured the woman he loved dying as a sacrifice at the hands of a cruel, brutal vampire. Ric was the person who'd understood Damon more than anyone else could, and now he was gone.

That was the loss that had destroyed Damon the most.

"So, thanks, friend." Damon murmured, his voice full of pained sarcasm. "Thanks for leaving me here to babysit, because I should be _long_ gone by now."

Elena knew what he meant. He'd promised to leave if Elena had chosen Stefan, but he'd stayed to help her through the transition. He cared too much to leave her like this.

"I didn't get the girl, remember?" The bitter words cut her so deeply, more than they should have. He'd believed he had a chance, he'd allowed himself to hope, and then she'd turned him down before she died, and he lost his best friend and the love of his life in one fell swoop.

"I'm just stuck here, fighting with my brother and taking care of the kids."

Elena couldn't take it anymore; the overwhelming guilt and sorrow threatened to drown her. She silently stood, backing away, ready to take off at a moment's notice.

"You owe me big." He took a final gulp of bourbon before he set the empty bottle down as a token, a tribute to his fallen friend, getting to his feet to leave, arming himself with his steely emotional distance once more. Elena allowed her gaze to rest on Alaric's grave for only a moment longer before she ran.

She ran, she ran and really let the tears fall, unchecked, unashamed, her heart-wrenching, shuddering sobs lost in the wind, gone forever, gone like the lanterns they'd sent flying up into the night sky.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you liked part one! Part two picks up post-4x04, with a twist...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's chapter two of my three-part story! This one starts with a flashback... hopefully it's fairly obvious where that picks up. Chapter three isn't yet complete, but it's well over half-done, so hopefully I shouldn't keep you waiting too long for that.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or its characters; all rights to their respective owners.**

* * *

_Damon had lived a long time and seen many things, but he had never known anything hotter than the image of Elena in a full blood-frenzy. _

_He'd been teaching her to feed and stay in control, a skill she appeared to master quite easily under his expert tutelage. Now, high on fresh blood, cheap alcohol and adrenaline, they were dancing at this crappy Halloween party. Or rather, Elena was dancing, while Damon gazed at her, entranced._

_She flung her head back in ecstasy. Was she laughing? She tossed her hair, overwhelming him with the scent of her shampoo, and she gave him a devilish smile, her eyes glittering and dark with hunger._

_He didn't know if she'd ever let herself go around him like this before. He knew she preferred to stay in control – when she lost it, she did stupid things like make out with him in seedy motels or grind him against the bathroom wall while drinking from him. But he could see this new part of her, the part he'd always known existed but hadn't seen until she'd turned, and to be honest, he loved it._

_"How do you feel?" He asked her, his eyes transfixed on her mouth, the fangs, the drying blood on her lips. She looked positively sinful as she pulled him in, wrapping her arms like a vice around him and pressing her lips to his ear._

_"I want more." The whispered words sent a burst of heat straight through his body and he almost groaned with desire._

_He grasped her hand and glanced around, selecting a target. A pretty blonde with pale green eyes seemed to fit, and Elena nodded in answer to his silent question._

_He sauntered over to the girl, feeling Elena's gaze on him, and slid in front of her. She blinked, startled, but quickly composed her face into what she thought was a seductive, controlled expression._

_"You're coming with me," he told her, feeling the mind control as it took hold, and the girl willingly and silently followed him out of the main room and upstairs into an empty dorm._

_She sat down on the nearest bed, running her hands over the comforter, and the door clicked closed behind Damon. He turned briefly, seeing Elena move towards them, licking her lips, the veins around her eyes darkening in anticipation._

_"Patience," Damon warned and Elena let her breath out in a slow hiss as the veins disappeared. She backed away again and he slowly pulled an elastic from the girl's wrist, pulling her hair into a ponytail to get it off her neck._

_"Nobody likes having hair in their food," Damon whispered. The whole thing was supposed to be a lesson for Elena… but he was allowed to have fun while he did it, right? "Is the door locked?"_

_Elena nodded, her eyes focused on the vein pulsating gently in their victim's neck._

_"You won't scream or fight back, and you won't feel any pain." Damon waited until he was sure his compulsion had worked, running his tongue along his teeth as his impatient fangs descended. Her white, bare neck called out to him, her blood singing in her veins._

_Without delaying it any further, he sank his teeth into her neck, pulling her head back by her ponytail for better access. Her blood tasted of freshness and youth, much cleaner than the stoner boy he'd had earlier. His eyes flicked up to Elena, who had her fists clenched, the black veins clear on her face once more. _

_"Hungry?" _

_It was all she needed. She launched towards them, latching onto the other side of the girl's neck, drawing deeper, more violent gulps. Her bite was messy; blood was smeared all over her face and down the girl's shirt, but neither seemed to care. Again, Damon felt his pants getting uncomfortably tight at seeing Elena like this, completely in her element, as they drank together._

_Just as he thought he would have to stop her from killing the girl entirely, he felt himself flung backwards, slamming against the wall, leaving a crack in the plaster, and Elena's lips were on his. It was heady, intoxicating; her hands were everywhere – in his hair, under his shirt, on his belt buckle – and she ground her hips against his, as if she were trying to get even closer to him. Her body was pressed to his, her tongue delving into his mouth, and her hands wandered to the hem of his shirt._

_Then she was gone and lifting the forgotten blonde from the bed, looking into her eyes._

_"You don't remember seeing us. The bite on your neck is just a realistic Halloween costume. You've had too much to drink and you're going home to sleep it off."_

_The girl nodded and left in a trance. Damon was still trying to calm down, still trying to process what had just happened. Elena slowly swung the door shut behind her._

_"I- um, Elena, we-" Damon stammered, but the look in her eyes tore the words from his throat and he was rendered unable to speak. Her hair was messed up – sex hair – and her fangs gleamed white under her blood-red lips, but her eyes – they were completely black with lust._

_They were kissing again before he could blink and she tore his shirt from his body, ravenously taking in his body with her eyes and fingertips, as if she was committing the image to memory. She kissed him again, slowly, and then placed soft kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. She looked at him and he saw her unspoken question, giving an almost imperceptible nod._

_Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt her fangs descend and scrape against the underside of his jaw and along his pulse point. She teased him for a moment with her tongue before he growled in frustration and she gave in, sinking her teeth into his throat._

_The feeling was erotic as she took long, deep gulps of his blood, sending a pleasant buzz through his body and straight to his most important body parts. She gave a little moan, evidently enjoying this just as much as the first time, in the bathroom at the Grill. _

_She stopped, licking away the few remaining drops on his neck before they sealed closed, and then bared her neck to him expectantly. Damon could practically feel his mouth watering as he looked at her, but his own conscience sharply reprimanded him, reminding him who and where he was._

_"Elena, stop," Damon commanded, swallowing hard and taking a step back. "I don't want this… to be something you'll regret."_

_She let out a feral snarl, upright and threatening in a flash. "I need this, Damon. I'm here and I'm ready and you're turning me down?"_

_"I can't, Elena. I won't be the person to take advantage of you like this."_

_He sadly regarded this goddess before him, still enchanted by her wild beauty and all the untamed passion and unchecked emotion in her eyes, and he knew that he couldn't have her until he had all of her. He loved her, and he wanted her for real. Not while she still belonged to his brother; not while she was confused and conflicted and close to crazy._

_He saw the hurt of rejection flicker across her expression and her vampire face reverted to the same old vulnerable Elena, tears glittering in her lashes. He reached for her, pulling her close and embracing her, trying to put everything he felt for her, every word he couldn't say into the way he stroked her hair or rubbed her back while she sobbed into his shoulder._

_And then she was gone and he was holding empty air, the blood and salty tears on his shirt the only reminders of the fragile, broken girl he loved._

* * *

The air had a biting chill to it, foreshadowing the imminent winter, sure to be harsher than last year. Elena wondered if it warned of other things too – of dangers to be faced; of newer, greater villains; of unbearable pain and loss.

Life had been so much simpler before death had tarnished her and left its ghostly, ominous mark. Her parents had been alive, she'd been oblivious to any and all creatures of the night, and her greatest concerns were schoolwork and cheerleading and what color she'd wear to homecoming.

Shallow, maybe, but she couldn't deny that knowledge of the world around her had brought with it suffering and bloodshed, and part of her wished she could go back and choose differently this time around and continue living her blind existence.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she knelt by her parents' grave, a single headstone bearing one date. Her finger traced the engraved words, _loving parents_… for how was she supposed to describe all that they were to her in a short epitaph?

Would things have been different, if they had not died? Would they have told her about her adoption, about the vampires and the council? Would Stefan ever have met her, or just passed through Mystic Falls never knowing differently? Would Damon ever have told him about the young and naïve girl in the middle of the road who bore a striking resemblance to the seductress they'd once loved?

_Questions I'll never know the answers to_, Elena sighed, _only ever to be followed by more questions._ More than anything, she wished she wasn't so alone: that her daddy could protect her from the very real monsters under her bed and that her mother could guide her through the confusing jumble of amplified feelings and thoughts in her head.

She could have been there for hours, for all she knew, but once she'd cried her fill of tears, she allowed her thoughts to wander to Damon and their interaction at the party. She hadn't spoken to him since, and she didn't know what she wanted or how he felt about the whole thing – she'd barely allowed herself to think about it, because the sheer anxiety and whirl of emotions that it dredged up caused her gut to twist up in impenetrable knots.

Her only reassuring thought was that Damon would surely feel the same way.

She knew he'd go to Alaric after _the_ _incident_ and indeed, merely minutes after she'd settled herself in her hiding place, she heard his drunken footsteps through the brush.

"What's new, Ric? Thought you'd be around on Halloween; apparently it's the night ghosts like to wander the earth."

Elena smiled as Damon poured a glass of bourbon and set it by Ric's grave before refilling his own glass and taking a sip.

"She kissed me."

Elena sucked in her breath and steeled herself for whatever he was about to say.

"She kissed me and it was wonderful, it was everything I ever wanted. She was so beautiful when she fed, she just embraced her vampirism; I know she never wanted it but _god,_ she makes a good vampire."

A tingling sense of pride crept through her at that.

"We were dancing, caught up in the moment, and you'll _never_ guess what she said, Ric. She begged me for more. The next thing I knew she was kissing me and compelling the girl to leave and ripping off my clothing and it was everything from my wildest fantasies, you know?"

If Elena closed her eyes and strained her ears, she could almost hear Ric's reproving words.

"I know, I know. Worst chaperone ever." He let out a bitter laugh and was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "And she drank from me again; she wanted me to drink from her. But I couldn't do it. I mean, just having her there like that was enough to drive me completely crazy but she's not mine and I couldn't bear having her and knowing how much she would hate herself for it in the morning. I know her too well for that."

The wind picked up, howling through the trees, the leaves rustling as if they whispered secrets Elena longed to know. She shivered slightly, crouching lower to the ground and hugging her arms tightly around herself in a feeble attempt to defy the bitter wind.

"It hurt so goddamned much, Ric. But I _love_ her. I love her and I turned her down because she's _not_ mine; she _never_ will be mine and it just – fucking – hurts!"

In a sudden movement he flung his glass at a tree just to the left of where Elena had concealed herself and she let out a squeak of alarm as it shattered, showering her with tiny fragments of crystal.

"Elena?" Damon called out, his blue eyes searching the darkness, and she didn't wait.

She turned and ran, ran as fast as her vampire speed would allow, not stopping until she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom.

She stared at herself in the mirror, panting, her face flushed, and she knew what she had to do. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right anymore.

Stefan wasn't what she wanted anymore.

She breathed the words, the words she'd been denying for longer than she cared to admit, the five words that would change _everything_.

"I'm in love with Damon."

* * *

**Feel free to leave a review to let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading; you guys are the best! ~ Kim**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm so sorry; I'm super late with this one, I know! I knew it'd be a killer even though I already had half of it finished before I'd even started posting. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I've kept you all waiting long enough. You might need to reread the second part of the previous chapter if you've forgotten where we left off, but it's not essential - there's another time jump here, and I've obviously strayed far from the canon storyline of episodes 4x05-4x09.**

**Special thanks to Lucy for her help with this chapter. I hope you all enjoy the third and final instalment of ****Confess****! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or its characters; all rights to their respective owners.**

* * *

Winter had well and truly come to Mystic Falls. As a child, it had always been Elena's favorite season, meaning curling up by the fire together on family nights or snowball wars and sledding with her brother and her friends.

Christmas, too, was something that she still held dear in her heart. She'd pick a tree with her dad and the whole house would gain its piney scent; she and Jeremy would argue good-naturedly about who got to put the angel on top, and they'd conspire together at six o'clock on Christmas morning to sneak peeks at the brightly-wrapped presents Santa had left them during the night, holding and shaking them and guessing at what could be inside.

Elena pulled her coat tighter around herself as she walked down the footpath winding through Mystic Falls' cemetery. The crisp white snow crunched beneath her boots with every step and she could hear the comforting, lilting melody of carols floating out from the small chapel just outside the wrought-iron fence.

She'd already paid her visit to her parents' graves, to John and Jenna's too. She'd laid a wreath there, whispering words of love to the silent stone, allowing just a few tears to fall and disappear into the pale, frosty grass that almost whistled in the wind.

The path took her down into the woods again, through the old and creaking oaks that had once seen Damon and Stefan bury their mother, that had borne witness to the roundup of the vampires in 1864 and Katherine's clandestine getaway, that heard the furry, howling creatures of the night that made the dark forest their hunting ground, trees that undoubtedly knew of every secret in Mystic Falls.

"I'm in love with Damon," Elena told them softly. _There, one more truth for them to conceal in their sighing branches_. She'd told nobody of her discovery of her feelings; she hadn't even had the chance to tell _him_. He'd taken off with unlikely allies Bonnie and Katherine on a Klaus-hunting trip shortly after Halloween, but she knew Bonnie had returned to be with her dad for the holiday season, so Elena hoped that Damon had come back too.

Sure enough, as she slipped quietly into the clearing where Ric was buried, she spotted Damon on the old bench, a glass of bourbon at his side as pertained to his tradition. He remained completely silent as she stood watching him, his back to her as they breathed in perfect synchronization and listened to the sounds of the winter's night.

"I know you're there, Elena," Damon said softly. Elena took a few tentative steps toward him and he shifted over wordlessly, leaving her space to sit beside him and passing her the glass. She took a small sip, but the sharp taste didn't faze her. She'd spent many a night in the boarding house while he'd been gone, drinking the amber beverage in an attempt to recall what he had tasted like when she'd kissed him.

"What I don't know is why." It was a statement, such finality in his tone as if he didn't expect her to be able to answer.

"It's Christmas," she said simply, and he turned to her, his blue eyes gazing into her own, questioning the sure, unwavering tone of her voice. "How was California?"

"Dead-end, literally; the witch had already had her throat ripped out by the time we got there. We sniffed around for a bit and killed a couple of rogue hybrids but we didn't learn anything new."

"It's okay. You're getting closer. Just next time, please tell me where you're going, okay? Better yet, let me come with you."

He sat up sharply, his eyes flashing. "No way. No way in hell, Elena."

"Why not?"

"I'm not going to put you in danger of getting hurt."

"I'm a vampire," she protested. "I can protect myself."

"Just because _he_," Damon spat, pointing at Ric's headstone, "taught you a few basic defense moves doesn't mean you're ready to take on Klaus."

"Caroline's been training me," Elena snarled. "I can help you fight."

Damon seemed speechless for a moment. "_Caroline's_ been giving you Vamp 101?"

"Yes, actually." Elena reached down and deftly picked up a fallen branch, turning it over in her hands thoughtfully. "Want me to show you a few moves?"

"At least you're learning from her and not my precious, squirrel-munching brother."

"So Caroline's good enough to teach me? She passes your test? She's not one of the – what was it that you called us? – 'stupid, delusional, exasperating little children'?"

Damon fell silent upon hearing his own words repeated back at him.

"You don't have to be so condescending all the time, Damon."

"Oh, is that so? Because, forgive me if I'm mistaken, but it seems like the second I'm not there to protect you, you almost get yourself killed?"

"It's different now-"

"No, it's not different. In fact, you're even more vulnerable than before. Before, I could give you my blood when you were in danger or injured. I had a chance to save you, a get-out-of-jail-free card. Now, you get staked, and you're dead, Elena. Gone for good. I can't take you into battle with me and constantly worry about your safety. Klaus knows my first priority is protecting you and he _knows_ that you're my weakness; he'll exploit it. And then we'll both be dead, and where will that get us?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? You don't have to protect me-"

"I do, Elena! Because for every one of those awful minutes that I thought you were dead, I couldn't breathe or speak or think, and I didn't want to. I can't lose you, and don't you dare ask me why, because you _know_ why. You knew before you died, you knew when you transitioned, and you sure as hell knew it at Halloween. Don't deny it – you were there; I heard you."

Elena gently took his hand, clasping it in her own. "I wasn't going to deny it," she said softly.

Damon rose to his feet in anger, pulling his hand away. "I wonder if Ric's hearing the same bullshit as I'm hearing right now. I can't walk away from you, as much as I want to; god, I've _tried_ to, but I always end up coming right back just to suffer another affectionate pat on the head and an 'I care about you, Damon, but it's always going to be Stefan'. Good enough to save your life, to eavesdrop on as I pour my heart out to a dead guy who isn't going to drink the glass of bourbon no matter how many times I set it there, waiting for an invisible hand to take it; I'm pathetic, aren't I? I'm never going to be good enough for you, so you can take your guilt and pity and shower it on some other lost cause. It's Christmas, for fuck's sake. Go spend your sympathy on a homeless shelter."

Elena didn't realize she was crying until her vision blurred with tears, her voice hoarse with emotion.

"I broke up with Stefan."

"I'm sure you'll see the error of your ways in the next week or so," Damon said bitterly.

"Let me finish; I broke up with Stefan the day after Halloween, and if you hadn't been so busy figuring out the best excuse to flee town to avoid me, you'd have noticed."

He began pacing back and forth, anxiously raking his fingers through his hair.

"Because of what I said?"

"Because what you said forced me to realize something I'd probably known for a very long time."

Slowly, seriously, he turned to face her, and she stood, meeting his gaze squarely and standing her ground as he regarded her, still guarded, cautious.

"Why are you here, Elena?"

She swallowed and the wind picked up for a moment, the rustling of tree leaves singing her earlier confession back to her.

"Because I'm in love with you, Damon."

He took painfully slow, deliberate steps toward her, never taking his eyes off hers. He was so close to her now that she could see the steam of their breaths mingling together between them before dissipating into nothingness.

"I love you," she repeated steadily.

Their lips met gently, and a brilliant heat ripped through their bodies despite the cold and the fresh snowflakes beginning to fall. Elena opened her mouth to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss as her arms curled around his neck, his hand coming up to hold her tightly against him.

They broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other as Elena fought to catch the breath he'd taken from her. Damon laughed slightly, and Elena's eyes flickered open in confusion.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Why are you laughing, Damon?"

He stole another few kisses from her before answering.

"Because I thought about what Ric would say if he knew we were here practically defiling his grave."

Elena smiled as he pressed his lips to hers one more time before pulling her head in to rest in the crook of his neck.

They lost track of time as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, simply breathing and listening to the carols and smelling the scents of winter carried on the wind. Damon poured the rest of the bourbon onto the ground in front of Alaric's headstone, a libation, a sign of respect, a solemn promise of never forgetting as Elena stood by and shed a tear and watched the snow turn golden-red and melt away. Then Elena stuck her tongue out, trying to catch each snowflake as it fell and giggling as Damon caught her around the waist and spun, lifting her high off the ground.

Eventually, Elena entwined her fingers with Damon's and began to lead him back through the cemetery. She leaned into him for warmth, though she did not feel the cold, and he looked down at her and smiled, perhaps the first true, loving smile of his that Elena had ever really _seen_.

And Elena got so lost in his eyes that she found herself on the doorstep of the boarding house without really knowing how she got there, and a devilish grin crossed her face as she pushed him backwards into the door and kissed him, hard.

They stumbled into the foyer as Elena murmured breathlessly against his lips, "Stefan's at a party with Caroline." She reached to unzip his jacket, but he grabbed her wrists, slowing her down, and she pouted adorably at him as he dragged her down to sit on the couch beside him.

"We'll have time for that later," Damon promised her, tapping her nose with his finger and smirking as she tried to suppress a smile and failed. "I think it's about time I gave you your Christmas present."

She gasped and stared at him. "But I don't have yours here."

"It's not necessary," he said, his blue eyes dark and sincere. "I have everything I want right in front of me."

Her stunned expression morphed easily into a smile, and she leaned in to kiss him again, but he stopped her, reaching behind him onto the side table and grasping a plain white envelope addressed to 'Gilbert, Elena'.

He handed it to her and she stared at it in confusion.

"Well, go on; open it."

She glanced at him again, a tiny crease appearing between her eyebrows, and she tore it open, unfolded the paper, and began to read aloud.

"'Dear Miss Gilbert; thank you for your application to Emory College.'" She bit her lip. "What application?"

"Keep reading," he prodded her.

"'Due to the high level of interest in our English faculty, and the quality of each application, many deserving students missed out on a place in our early acceptance program, and are encouraged to reapply in the spring. However, your application was outstanding, and we are delighted to offer you one of twelve places in our program, subsidized with a $5000 scholarship for each year of your studies. To accept this offer, please contact the admissions office by January 31st'."

Silence filled the room as Elena stared at Damon in disbelief.

"So?" Damon prompted, trying to contain his anxiety.

"You compelled the early acceptance committee at Emory?"

He scowled. "Of course not. I saw the pamphlet in your book bag in September, but I knew you wouldn't apply for it on your own. I filled out a form, used a _teensy_ bit of compulsion on your English teacher to convince her to give me some of your classwork and sign off on the application as your reference, asked Caroline to help me access the application essay you thought nobody knew about on your laptop, and sent it off the day before the deadline, just in case you decided to apply on your own, which you didn't. They called last week to confirm your place, and the letter arrived two days later, so I decided to surprise you today."

She continued to watch him, her expression unreadable, and Damon swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, okay? I thought you wanted to go there and I knew you were good enough for that scholarship, so I thought I'd give you a little push. You don't have to take it; it's just an option if you want it-"

"Are you kidding?" She exclaimed, launching herself at him and burying her face in his neck as tears stung her eyes. "This is perfect. Of course I want to go to Emory; I've wanted to go there ever since I was thirteen and my mom gave me my first journal. Oh my god, I'm going to _college_. Thank you so much. I love you."

"There's one more thing," Damon said, standing and holding out his hand to her. "It's in my bedroom. Coming?"

Elena blushed and giggled, taking his hand and allowing herself to be led up the stairs. She jumped onto the bed and devoured him hungrily with her eyes. He winked at her and went over to his dresser, pulling a plain wooden box from the top drawer and passing it to her.

"This… well, I knew it was yours; I've known it for a while. I just didn't know if or when I'd ever get to give it to you, but I guess now's as good a time as any. It used to be my mother's…"

"Oh, Damon," Elena whispered, her soft smile warm with compassion and love.

"She said she loved it because it represented something for her; she kept it in its original box because it reminded her that the most beautiful things could come from the roughest places. My father gave it to her before they married, and she gave it to me before she died; she told me that when the right girl came along, I'd know. You've endured a lot of pain these past few years, Elena, and you're still _you_. So, naturally, this is yours."

Elena slid open the lid of the box and gently picked up the tiny ornamental crystal bird, with two sapphires for eyes, its glorious wings spread wide and majestic. She admired it, speechless, and then set it carefully back on the deep blue satin and snapped the box shut.

"Thank you," she breathed, and she pushed him down onto the bed, unable to restrain herself any longer. In one smooth motion, she reached over to set the box on the nightstand and lowered herself down to kiss him, fire erupting through their bodies as their lips met. She straddled him, both still fully-dressed, and her fingernails tore at his clothing as she lost herself to her vampire side again.

She hissed and gasped between kisses as Damon pulled her sweater and tank top over her head, casting it aside and kissing her shoulder tenderly. She pressed her nose into his neck, inhaling deeply, hearing his blood call out to her from beneath his skin as she recalled its taste in her mouth and the way it made her feel completely _alive_. He shuddered beneath her as she slowly dragged her teeth across a vein, but with great effort, she pulled back, gazing into his dark, lust-filled eyes that so perfectly matched hers.

After a beat, he shrugged what remained of his jacket and shirt off as her fingers scrambled to the button of his jeans, tearing them in her frustration. She slipped her hand beneath his boxer shorts, allowing her fingernails to gently graze him until he flipped her over and pulled her jeans off, tossing them to join the rest of their clothing on the hardwood floor along with his boxers.

Damon's eyes glinted as he seized both her wrists in his left hand and held them above her head, and he slowly, torturously began to worship her body with kisses, from her lips, to her neck and collarbone, at the top of her breast, her stomach. He was forced to release her hands to move lower and she twined her fingers through his hair as he kissed the inside of her thigh, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her stomach and causing her to moan his name.

Once he'd removed her lace underwear, she lay trembling with anticipation, feeling the light flutter of his breath on her. She inhaled sharply at the first touch of his fingers, and gasped again at the touch of his tongue as he slowly brought her to the brink of release, playing her like a finely tuned instrument, before letting her fall back down. Damon smirked at her resultant feral growl and obediently repeated his ministrations, sending her sky high as she came, her fingernails digging so hard into his scalp that they drew blood.

It took several seconds for Elena's body to relax, and though she opened her eyes, she still saw nothing but stars from the aftermath of her orgasm. He kissed her, deeply, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and releasing it, feeling her lazy smile against his mouth. Her hands slid up to his hips and she pulled him closer, moving to whisper in his ear.

"I want _more_."

They breathed together as he pushed into her, and she turned to kiss his neck as he gradually began to move. It was better than he'd ever imagined, being with her in every way. It felt like coming home, like finding a part of himself that he hadn't even realized he'd been missing. They gradually built up pace, and Elena whispered his name against his throat over and over again, as if in prayer. He felt the subtle change in her movements, the switch from rhythmic to wild, the prick of fangs as she gave into the call of his veins, her soft lips and soothing tongue contrasting with the brief pain of the bite.

In the moment they were connected through body and blood, Damon knew what she wanted, needed. He pushed her hair, slightly damp and sticking to her skin from exertion, out of the way, and gently bit into her soft neck, tasting her for the first time since she'd become a vampire. It was everything he remembered from when Elena was human, her purity, compassion, and strength, but more intense, with a hint of spice and fire and freedom in addition to his own blood running through her veins, the blood that would always tether them to each other. He could taste everything, her memories, her emotions, her pain and her joy, the love she had for him and the elation she felt because he loved her right back. Everything was laid bare between them, and he wanted nothing more than to explore their connection for the rest of time.

They reached their peaks together, and they _soared_.

It could have been minutes that they laid there, intertwined as one, or it could have been hours, but they both returned to reality gazing into each other's eyes.

"I love you," Elena murmured, caressing his cheek as his hand came up to cover hers.

"I love you, too."

She rolled over until her back pressed against his chest, and he pulled the comforter up to cover them, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her close to him. He brushed his lips against her cheek lightly, smiling as the clock tower in the city square began to chime midnight.

He counted the twelve clangs as they echoed through the town, listening to Elena's contented sigh as she snuggled into him, tangling her legs with his. He remembered the way he'd felt the night of the memorial, when he'd confessed his loneliness and grief to the grave of the only person who he thought might have understood. As he gazed at the girl he loved, he realized that the heavy weight he'd been carrying since that night and likely long before had begun to lift, that the hole that bereavement had left in his heart had begun to heal, and it was all because of _her_.

"Merry Christmas, Elena," he whispered, kissing her hair.

"Merry Christmas, Damon," she mumbled back, her eyes still closed and a soft smile on her lips.

And on a night known for miracles, they rested, ready to take on the world the next day, as long as they were _together_.

* * *

**I really hope I made it worth the wait, my lovely readers. Exactly three weeks from now I'll be on a ****_very_**** long flight to Canada, so unless inspiration strikes before then in the form of a one-shot, you probably won't hear from me for a while. I'll continue to work on my multi-chapter AUs when I can, slowly but surely. Everybody take care for the next few months; stay safe and try not to stress too much over season five like I undoubtedly will! **

**If you have any desire to hear about my trip or just discuss how emotional you get over Delena or ninadobsession's ****Wicked Innocence**** or tea and shortbread biscuits, find me on twitter: ohmyninadobreva. I love you all so much and I can't thank you enough for every review, favourite, and follow. You're the best.**

**~ Kim**


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